Anti-Thesus 2x3
Eames gripped the wheel tightly, the strain of the last few days filling every muscle with nervous energy. She glanced over at her parter for what had to be the hundredth time that drive. Goren's face remained fixated on the innards of his leather binder. Most likely he was going over every scrap of information they had on Wallace (AKA Hitchens) or reviewing every move they'd made for some way it could have ended differently. Either way, for the moment his obsessive tendencies were coming in very handy. It had been sunset when they left the upscale hideaway, and now the inky blues of night were taking hold of the sky. It was only when they pulled to a stop that Goren raised his head. He took one look at their destination before swiveling to show off to Alex his perplexed frown.
"We're not at One PP." He stated.
"No." She answered tersely, hands still curled around the steering wheel. He blinked, the turning cogs in his brain clearly visible.
"Why not?"
"No arrest, no immediate paperwork." The lines of his face hardened briefly before he continued in his inquiry.
"Then I should be going home."
"Nope."
"Any particular reason?" Eames took a deep breath in, and let it out with her answer in tow.
"You're staying with me tonight." His expression changed rapidly from confusion to surprise, to unease, to resolute.
"I don't think so."
"Too bad." She replied. Now he was definitely frustrated.
"Eames give me the keys." He reached for them but Alex held the car key up to her mouth.
"Don't make me swallow them Bobby!" She threatened. Instantly his motion ceased. With a resigned sigh, he withdrew his arm and rolled his eyes at her antics.
"So what will we be doing?" The insane notion of calmly saying 'each other' flitted to mind.
"Your choice: romantic comedy or gore-fest." His brow furrowed.
"And those are my only—"
"Yes." Another sigh.
"Gore-fest please."
~*~
"Are we planning on eating at all tonight?" Bobby asked as the credits of Saw II rolled into view. Alex pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"That depends on what you can cook, now doesn't it?" Happiness pooled in her belly as a warm smile grew over his features. It was the first genuine smile since that emotional interrogation. Once Alex realized what she had just thought, it was instantly pushed away.
"I have a feeling it will depend more on what's in your fridge." He countered, already on his feet and making his way out the room.
Smirk in place, she called to his retreating back "Good luck! The only functional part of my kitchen is the take-out drawer!" Once he was out of sight, her expression fell into that of emotional pain.
That woman had given him hell. He'd been floored when Nicole Wallace had showed him his social security number on the notepad. Goren might not have been aware, but she'd managed to catch most of the... juicy bits. Thankfully Deakins and Carver had been busy with the Habeas Corpus and therefore ignorant of the personal tragedies Wallace had uncovered. It had been both a punch in the gut and enthralling to hear details of her partner's life. She'd known his mother was mentally ill, but not much more than that. Hearing it from the smug bitch's mouth... well, if it had been her in that room, Nicole would be long gone in a very different way.
And then there was the issue of Nicole herself. She was the kind of criminal that captivated Goren. She was, and Alex would never admit she saw it this way, him on another path. His equal but opposite. His Professor Moriarty. Smart, funny, charming, sparkling... Those were his exact words. This woman who knew his history, who knew how he thought and why, who had caught his eye even upon their first meeting. Alex couldn't help feeling jealous of this cold-hearted killer being so intensely focused on by Robert Goren, who would only show interest in her over a dead body.
"I think I can make some good Chinese with what's in here." Alex started and looked up at her partner. He wordlessly held up the cordless phone and a menu, a small smirk tilting his lips. She couldn't help it; Alex started to laugh.
"Goren the Genius conquered by my kitchen." Her mirth trickled off as she realized the terrible double meaning her words could have. Looking apologetically up at him, she was staggered by the deep sadness in his eyes.
"Next time." He vowed softly, to which thought she wasn't sure. But Eames knew one thing.
Watson may have received some of Holmes' love, but he had to know there would always be that place in the detective's heart for his Moriarty.
Ah Nicole Wallace, the bitch who consumed Goren for so long. There's a great song called I Hate the Way by Polly Scattergood which is perfect for B/N from Nicole's perspective. I highly recommend it.
